


kiss and tell me everything is alright

by orphan_account



Category: Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Injuries, also moritz isnt white, and ernst is a ginger, but also theyve been friends for years, i lied theres one. one handjob., its not sex, just one, not technically slow burn bc we jump into it, so kinda, they make out and thats IT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 02:34:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16924914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "You need to pick your battles more carefully, Ernst," Moritz clicked his tongue, gently wiping the blood from his cheek, "You could've gotten yourself seriously hurt.""You should see the other guy."





	kiss and tell me everything is alright

Ernst really had to stop climbing in through Moritz's window at the crack ass of dawn. He also had to stop getting himself beat up every other week because he didn't have an "off" button on his emotions. Moritz opened his eyes just a crack to watch Ernst stumble through, almost crashing on the floor but managing to land on his feet. "Hey," Ernst whispered, voice barely above a whisper, "Saw your old man while I was out, his new girl has to be half his age." He padded over, situating himself on the edge of Moritz's bed, in the light just enough so that Moritz saw the blood and bruises on his face. Moritz groaned and sat up, running a hand through his messy hair with a shake of his head.

"Who'd you piss off this time? Billy again? Did'ja beat Thea at Battleship so badly she beat you up?" Ernst laughed softly, his hand resting on Moritz's calf through the blanket. "Wait, wait, let me guess. You tried to tell Melchior that in a modern version of Romeo and Juliet that Tybalt would call himself the Pussy Slayer again?" And with that, Ernst actually snorted. And then he nearly doubled over. That got Moritz to lean over, patting Ernst's shoulder before standing and quickly stretching. Ernst stood as well, gripping onto the bedpost for support. Moritz quickly tore a wet wipe from the pack in his nightstand, handing it over to Ernst for him to wipe away some of the blood. As Ernst wiped the wet wipe over the scratches on his arm, Moritz ran a washcloth under the faucet in the bathroom. His eyes flicked up to his reflection in the mirror. He wasn't getting much sleep anyway- he never did.

"Ernst, darlin', can you tell me?" He called as he walked back, noticing that Ernst had already made himself comfortable. As always. Ernst shrugged, his red-blond hair sweeping in front of his eyes as he laid back. He approached, lightly whacking the washcloth over his arm. "You need to pick your battles more carefully, Ernst," Moritz clicked his tongue and kneeled, gently wiping the blood from his cheek, "You could've gotten yourself seriously hurt."

He laughed, and his grin made the freckles on his face, illuminated by lamp light, look like little stars. "You should see the other guy."

Moritz rolled his eyes, flicking the tip of his nose. "Gonna tell me who the other guy is?" Ernst paused, and Moritz could tell by the way his face scrunched up that he was biting the inside of his cheek. He stretched out, back arching off the bed in a very overdramatic display of pretending to think about it. "If you say no, I won't help you run lines for the school show anymore."

"God, okay, _Mom._ " Of course, he drew it out, eyes shut as he took his sweet time, "It was just Bobby Maler. He cheated on Hanschen, so I went to confront him. Asshole tried to kiss me about it, despite the entire reason that I was there was that he shouldn't do that, so I punched him." He paused. "I won, by the way."

Biting back a laugh, Moritz pressed the washcloth lightly to a bruise on his temple. "He has like fifteen pounds of muscle on you, and is on every sports team known to man. And he's in band. You did not win." Ernst laughed back, and then, for a couple of minutes, they sat in silence, Moritz tending to him with only the noises of his heavy breathing as a backdrop. "Jesus," he whispered as he pressed the washcloth to the forming black eye, "You really did it this time, huh?"

"I like you," Ernst mumbled, crossing his arms and scooting down, chin resting on his crossed arms, "I really like you."

"I like you too man, we've been friends for what- ten-ish years?" Moritz replied in the same soft tone, sitting down next to him and setting the washcloth aside. "I'd sort of hope you like me by now-"

"No," Ernst interrupted, reaching for Moritz's hand, "I really _really_ like you." He turned his head, and Moritz turned his. For a second, they just stared. Ernst's eyes- bluish grey, like a spring sky -flicked to Moritz's lips, chapped and scabbed from years of biting them. Then, slowly, like time was stopping, he leaned in impossibly closer, "I really like you, Moritz," he whispered, before kissing him, gently, like he was afraid he would break him. After a minute where sound seemed to disappear, he pulled back, swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to bury the fear on his face. He opened his mouth, presumably to apologize, but then one of Moritz's hands was on his arm and the other was in his hair and they were kissing again but it was more this time. Less experimental, more passionate.

"You have," Moritz breathed, lips hardly a hair away from his lips, "no idea how long I've wanted to do that." They both laughed, leaning in to kiss again, all teeth and giggles and tongue. Moritz's hand was still in his hair, and Ernst's fell to his lower back, his other reaching to the waistband of his sweatpants. His breath caught in his throat, and he bit down on Ernst's lower lip with a nod. Ernst's fingers- calloused from years of gymnastics -slipped under his sweats, and he slowly started to palm Moritz through his boxers. Moritz rocked his hips forward, quickly growing desperate. Finally, Ernst tugged down his sweatpants and boxers in one fluid move, and they readjusted. Moritz was on his back now, Ernst still resting on his side. Moritz tilted up, immediately latching onto the soft skin of Ernst's neck. It must've caught him by surprise, because his grip tightened, and he jolted. Moritz had the audacity to laugh, with a playful tug on Ernst's hair. 

And that really got him. 

A small noise, something akin to a whimper, left him. But he ignored it, speeding up the movements of his hand, Moritz's teeth digging into his neck hard enough to leave a dark mark. His teeth were replaced by his lips, smoothing the pain until it faded. "Ritz, sweetheart," he forced out, twisting his wrist with a tug up, "Please, pull it again." Well. What was he going to do, say no? So, Moritz obliged, tugging on his hair hard enough for his head to fall back, mouth opening with no more than a gasp leaving him. His grip tightened the slightest bit, and he moved his hand faster, trying to tug him to his finish. They moved in this pattern for five-ish minutes, Ernst's gasps and Moritz's muffled swears providing background for their movements.

When Moritz finished- on his shirt and the bit of exposed stomach, he immediately tugged off his shirt and balled it up, throwing it in with his dirty clothes. "Should've done that first," he laughed, and his eyes flicked down to Ernst's crotch. He met his eyes, and they kissed again, pulling away just enough to whisper "my turn, Ernie," before snaking his hand _low._


End file.
